


the spice in everyone’s otherwise vanilla lives

by apollothyme, thesilverwitch



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 03:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3365987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollothyme/pseuds/apollothyme, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesilverwitch/pseuds/thesilverwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"hey, i’m sorry to bother you, but i’m trying to convince my friends i’m not a sad loser so can you please write a fake number on this napkin for me real quick" AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	the spice in everyone’s otherwise vanilla lives

“You _have_ to do it.”

“I actually don’t have to do anything, thank you very much,” James replied, rolling his eyes at his friend.

“James, bro, amigo de mi corazón, mi compadre, mi alma—”

“Oh my god—” James grimaced as Isco steam rolled over him.

“My love muffin, my sweet cinnamon roll—”

“Please stop—”

“My pride and joy, you have to do this. You broke up with that creepy Falcao guy six months ago. It’s time for you to meet new people. Get a stranger’s number and maybe take part in a threesome. You know, live a little,” Isco said with all the wisdom of someone with little control over their mouth on a good day and absolutely none when they were drunk.

James stared in abject horror. “'Take part in a threesome'? Really?”

“I’m just saying, you gotta get out there,” Isco put an arm around James’ shoulder and pulled him until their heads were leaning on each other. “There’s a whole ocean of fish for you to catch.”

“I’m not sure that’s how the saying goes,” James said as he took a sip of his rum and coke, but Isco simply waved him off.

“Tell you what. You ask for the number of one person—just _one_ person here—and I’ll stop bothering you _and_ I’ll even tell everyone at the museum to stop bothering you, too.”

James’ eyebrows shot up. Isco and the others had been pestering him into dating someone for weeks now. They’d tricked him into going on blind dates, switched their numbers on his phone to random dudes' numbers and constantly invited him out. The only reason James had agreed to go out tonight was because he’d missed Isco’s birthday celebrations last week due to a bad cold and Isco wanted, in his own words, ‘to have some special bro time with my favorite bro. Full homo, but only in a friendship way. You’re great, Jamesito, but it’d never work between us. You’re too sweet for me’.

“For how long?” James asked, knowing better than to get his hopes up without checking all the angles first.

Isco’s reply was immediate. “One week.”

“Two.”

“Deal.” They shook hands before Isco waved down the bartender to ask for two shots. “What?” he asked when he saw James’ shake his head at him. “You’ll need the liquid courage. Also, you get way more handsy when you’re drunk and let me tell you, there is not a single guy here who will be able to resist you throwing yourself all over them.”

“I don’t wanna throw myself on anyone,” James said, but his point was probably moot since he downed the shots the bartender put in front of him—one red, the other blue, heavens only knew what was in them—without further complaints.

“Alright, so, I’ve talked to Marcelo—”

“Of course you have,” James grumbled. Isco ignored him.

“And we think you’re aiming too low with the guys you pick, which is why you’re gonna get _that_ guy’s number,” Isco pointed at someone across the bar, making James turn around to see who he’d singled out before he flipped around again.

“No way,” he said, shaking his head. He could feel the alcohol begin its fast descent through his arteries, but that didn’t mean anything. Drunk or not, there was no way he was talking to that guy.

“Why not?” Isco asked, looking genuinely shocked at James’ abrupt reply.

“Because look at him! His suit is probably worth more than all the contents of my apartment. I bet he’s some kind of hot-shot lawyer or banker while I’m just, well, I’m just me,” James pointed down at himself. He was wearing a Nirvana t-shirt from his teenage years and a leather jacket he’d bought on sale at H&M. He was nothing compared to that guy.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re gorgeous. You’re smart. You’re funny. You have a degree and a master’s from Complutense and you work in the Del Prado museum—”

“I have an internship there—” 

Isco waved him off as he straightened the lapels of James’ jacket. “Everyone knows you’re going to get the job when it ends. You’re a catch, James. Honestly, I don’t know how you don’t see it.”

James shifted from one foot to another underneath Isco’s shrewd gaze. He’d grown up as an awkward kid, never fitting in his body right, always unsure of what to say. Moving to Madrid for university had helped him by forcing him out of his shell, but it was difficult to let go of a lifetime of insecurities just because he’d suddenly grown ten centimeters and taken off his braces.

Not to mention, ten extra centimeters or not, the guy Isco picked was still ‘two zeroes to the right in his bank account and his life in check’ out of his league.

None of this mattered, however, when two weeks without pestering from his lovely—but also extremely aggravating—coworkers was on the line. 

“What, exactly, do I have to do?” James asked, relinquishing to Isco’s demands. 

“Minimum, you have to get his number and spend five minutes chatting to him. Maximum, you go home with him and ride his dick until you both pass out.”

James closed his eyes as he cringed. “Remind me again why we’re friends.”

“I’m the spice in everyone’s otherwise vanilla lives. Not to mention, you know I’m only doing this because I care and I’m tired of seeing you stare at couples on the street with sad love eyes. Now go get him, tiger, and while you’re at it I’m going to dance and make out with two strangers at the same time. Text me later to let me know how it went.”

Without another word, Isco slapped his ass, winked at him, and waltzed away.

James laughed and had to let him go without further complaints. He knew Isco would be watching him, so he’d have to make his way to the rich guy with blonde hair soon enough. Truth be told, Isco was right. James was lonely and he certainly wasn’t getting himself out there. That being said, it’d take a lot more than two shots and a pat in the ass for him to gather up enough courage to pick up someone like the guy Isco selected.

That was not to say that he couldn’t pretend to do so.

As James made his way over, he told himself that he’d start getting out there after this. He was ready to get out there again. He’d do it properly, too, while aiming at people in his league. But for now, he was going to do this.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I’m trying to convince my friend that I’m not hopelessly lonely and miserable,” the words stumbled out of his mouth almost too quickly, if the look of confusion on the other man’s face was any indicator. James tried for a smile. “You’d really help me out if you put up with me for the next five minute and wrote a fake number on this napkin for me real quick.”

The guy—gorgeous in a subtle way, with strong jawline, defined cheekbones and the prettiest blue eyes—stared at him for a couple of seconds before eventually asking, “Can’t you just tell them you’re fine with being single?”

“I’ve tried, but they won’t listen,” James couldn’t help the groan of frustration that came out. “I mean, I’ll admit they’re right in some aspects, but they’re too much, you know? They think they know what’s best for me and won’t stop pushing until they get it.”

“Oh, I definitely know what you’re talking about. Overbearing friends whose idea of love is signing you up for dating websites because they saw you watching The Notebook once is practically my specialty.” The man laughed before his eyes flicked over to James again and he pointed to the barstool next to him. “Five minutes you said?”

“Give or take. I’m James, by the way.”

“Toni. So anyway, what’s gonna happen if you get my number? Are they laying off you?” he asked.

“Yes!” James replied, excited to meet another person who got it. Until now, most of the people he’d been met had been interested, which made for one too many awkward conversations. “Two weeks with no one from work bothering me. Like a dream come true.”

“That is quite good. I was in a fake relationship once. Only lasted three weeks before we cracked and let the cat out of the bag. Totally worth it for the look on everyone’s faces though,” Toni said, making James laugh. He’d never thought about that option himself, although he had to admit it was a good one.

“Were they mad at you afterwards?” James asked.

“Completely infuriated. I’m still making up for it right now. See those two guys over there?” Toni pointed to a man with a blonde mohawk and a shorter one with brown hair leaning too close to one another to be strictly friends. “I came with them tonight. Every week or so, somebody drags me to a club like this and forces me to be their designated driver. I’ve got another three weeks until I’m free.”

James lifted two disbelieving eyebrows. “And it was still worth it?”

“You have no idea how much blackmail material I have on everyone now. After this, I’m dating sites free for at least six months,” Toni said with a huge grin, making James laugh again. “Your five minutes are almost up,” he said after James’ laughter had died down.

“Oh. I guess they are,” James replied. He hadn’t even noticed the time fly by, too distracted by the—great, he would add—conversation.

“I have a napkin, but no pen,” Toni said. It took James a few seconds to get it before he handed Toni his phone with a sheepish grin. “If you don’t mind, can I just ask why?”

“Why what?” James asked.

“Why pretend to ask someone for their number. You’re young, attractive and you sound pretty smart. I’m pretty sure you could have anyone in this bar if you wanted,” Toni said. He smiled, shyly, but still with a hint of quiet confidence behind it.

James stared at him for a moment, taken aback by the sudden compliment before he got a grip on himself. “I could say the exact same back at you.”

Toni let his head fall forward for a second as he scratched the back of his neck. "Touché," he said. When he looked up, his smile was as shy as before, with a hint of apologetic thrown in the mix. "I’m a workaholic. Well, was. It’s gotten better recently, but I’ve yet to let go of my old habits, and old Toni didn’t have time to date. You?”

“I have a tendency to only date jerks. Not on purpose,” James quickly amended. “And not like huge jerks. Just selfish people, I guess. Nothing bad enough to scar me for life, but enough to make me a little wary of dating.”

“Well, if it’s worth anything, I’m not a jerk,” Toni said, before he closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip. “Sorry, shit, forgot I said that. You only wanted a fake number, sorry,” Toni started to get up from his barstool. James stopped him before he even knew what he was doing.

“No, I mean yes, I wanted the fake number, but if you want to give me your real one you definitely can. I’m okay with trying to date people again. I just thought you wouldn’t want to be with someone like me, you know?” James said, because apparently missing out on a chance to embarrass himself was unthinkable.

“I don’t actually,” Toni said. He looked amused, but not unkind. He sat on his stool again.

James sighed. “You’re wearing a very, very expensive suit right now and I’m wearing a ratty, old t-shirt of a band I don’t even like. You’re like, so out of my league you’re from another planet.”

“Are you serious?” Toni asked, looking genuinely shocked. “I’m so not. I was watching Star Wars before I came here. I’m not out of your league. _At all_.”

They stared at each other for an awkward amount of time before James finally cracked and started laughing. After that, it was like they couldn’t stop, the both of them laughing so hard tears swelled in their eyes.

“This is not how I saw this conversation going,” James admitted. Before he approached Toni, he’d thought the chances of him getting a flat-out ‘get fucked’ were pretty high, followed closely by Toni putting up with him for five minutes and not a second more. 

Not that he could complain and he doubted anyone at work could either after Isco spilled all his secrets.

“Me neither. Can I give you my real number now?” Toni asked.

“Please do,” James replied, giving him his phone again.

He watched with a grin as Toni inserted his real number, then he shifted his gaze onto the dancefloor. On one side, he found Isco, sandwiched between a man and a woman just like he said he would. On the other, he found Toni’s friends making out as if this was their last day on earth.

James couldn’t be sure if what happened next was because he was more of a light-weight than he thought—which deep down he knew wasn’t true—or if he was simply that infatuated with this man. In any case, he dared to ask, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Definitely,” Toni replied, jumping from his stool and taking James’ hand.

“Your friends?” James asked, laughing as he pointed to the people on the dancefloor.

Toni shrugged. “They can get a cab.”

Toni’s car was a Mercedes-Benz that James gaped at before he laughed and got in the passenger side. “Your place or mine?” Toni asked once he was inside.

“Yours,” James said, thinking back to the takeout cartons he’d left on the coffee table and the dirty laundry piled on the corner of his bathroom.

The ride to Toni’s didn’t take long, but James couldn’t stop himself regardless. He slipped a hand between Toni’s legs and let it rest on his thigh for a couple of seconds before he began to move it up. He saw Toni’s grip on the steering wheel tighten and the way he locked his jaw. James grinned.

“Alright there?” he asked.

“Yes,” Toni gritted out.

James let out a low hum in agreement and trailed his fingers up, the slightest touch, until he gave in and grabbed Toni through the fabric of his slacks and then James gasped. Quite loudly.

“What?” Toni asked.

James ignored him. “You have condoms, right?” He had to make sure, or otherwise he would be able to get to Isco's maximum and rub it on his face afterwards.

“Yeah, I—yeah,” Toni’s feet hit the gas pedal a little harder. James rewarded him by opening his zipper.

Tonight was definitely going to be a good night.


End file.
